General electric washing machine not draining

I won't go into long details but for over a year my husband has been battling with health problems, motorcycle accident leaving his leg beyond repair, then a heart attack and most recently I ended up calling 999 for what I thought was another heart attack and he's in renal failure. I've used the last of my money going to and from hospital and appointments etc that I need to be there for, relying on his outstanding holiday pay (he's technically still employed and accumulates holiday pay though they won't let him work) to go in this morning only it didn't. I contacted them and they said it will be paid in next friday and they can't do anything about it. I have £1.57 on the electric meter, plus £5 emergency credit. Nothing on the gas but that's no problem, it's not cold. I've contacted bulb my supplier but they can't help. I'm not worried about myself, I can go without but I have three kids, 14, 10 and 8. My 10 year old is incontinent, so I accumulate a lot of washing. I could really use some help with some electric, bread, milk, potatoes and washing powder if anyone could help me temporarily.
Love xx

Okay so before anything else I’ve never posted anywhere on Reddit before so bare with me.
Second, all opinions are based on my own personal experiences. My “credentials” being that I work at one of the premier chipotles in my area (15k a day), have worked at multiple other restaurants including running a local business for 2 years, Sonic, and a restaurant more on the finer side of dining. This is purely restaurant experience and have more mostly in a supervisory position.
Alright so let’s get to it.

1. “Customer Service” From the second you start watching the training videos, like most restaurants, will emphasize the customer. How they’re always right and that you want them to feel like family. This is the most absurd thing about training because when you get down to it, Chipotle’s core values and practices are not indicative of a good customer experience. All chipotle cares about is speed and money. I have worked as a crew member for 6 months and haven’t seen a single “table touch”. The fact that all any of my managers (from KL to GM) can say when they help a customer is “what else” and “that’s extra” providing the most uninviting and socially awkward situation I’ve ever seen in customer service is crazy to me. And these are good hard working people. They’re just taught to act like robots so their precious throughput is high enough. It’s honestly embarrassing seeing how flustered customers can get because they’re just seen as an order to be fulfilled, not a person.
   
2. Management System
   

On paper, the management system that chipotle works with isn’t the worst. But unfortunately, a LOT of things that work on paper don’t in real life. On the books it provides a coherent and easy to follow chain of command, Kitchen Leader -> Shift Leader -> AP -> GM. But in REALITY, it leads to a mess of 4 people every shift that are all in some place of power each instructing you to do 3 different things in 3 different ways. Maybe in a perfect world this wouldn’t happen, but as I said in point 1 all anyone cares about are sales and money so instead of taking the time to address these issues, they’re tossed to the side as low priority.

1. The Waste

I understand labeling everything. But is there not a better way than the millions upon millions of stickers that all eventually get washed down the drain polluting our water systems?

1. Shift Change

If my shift ends at 3 and my replacement is late, why is that ALWAYS my problem? Maybe it’s my store only but there has never been a time when I left when I’m scheduled to leave. It’s like all of us are just expected to not have lives outside of the job, and when I or other employees get annoyed about it and vocalize our issues WE are looked at as the bad guys. If it wasn’t an every shift issue I wouldn’t even be bothered but it’s every single shift, I don’t understand.

1. Work Ethic

TW: Whiny Baby who doesn’t like to work hard.
I understand that no matter what I say here I’m gonna get the usual comments and that’s okay but, I grew up working on a farm, have worked much harder and physically demanding jobs than chipotle. Maybe it’s my age starting to get to me or just all the things that I hate about this place but, why the hell would I work so goddamn hard for this place? Everyone here thinks it’s weird that I don’t work at 1000mph. I genuinely get harassed for it. Yet I don’t see the point for sweating, running around, frying chips while chopping onions and sweeping all at the same time for slightly over minimum wage and the most miserable job I’ve ever been at. Don’t get me wrong I’m not an asshole. I don’t sit there and purposefully fuck people over and don’t look for ways to be lazy.
TLDR I hate working at chipotle, and don’t think my experiences are because of my coworkers but the system they are apart of.
Anyways let me know how you guys feel.

So the other day, my water froze in my well house. I didn’t know. So it probably ran for about 30 minutes without me realizing that the water was frozen. The water was only frozen for like an hour if that after all that I started messing around with the washing machine, noticing that it wouldn’t go past the sensing stage. I got it to drain and spin once now unfortunately, it just runs. Nothing happens it’s just running. I unplugged it for like four days and then when I plugged it back in today, it just started running again doing nothing just running. Help, I have no idea what I’m doing.

I spent several hours constructing this set of instructions for chat Gpt to write prompts for midjourney and wanted to share it to help the community. If you have any suggestions for changes please let me know. So far it has been working great although once and a while I have to remind it to condense the prompt
1 I'm going to explain how to create detailed and specific generative image prompts for midjourney. Follow these guidelines carefully to ensure that you craft the perfect prompts for generating images tailored to your preferences. 1. Begin each prompt with “/imagine prompt:”. 2. Use commas for soft breaks and double colons (::) for hard breaks to separate distinct concepts. You can also use numerical weights (e.g., “::2” or “::5”) after double colons to emphasize certain sections. These are placed after the word that’s being emphasized, not before. 3. To discourage the use of a concept, use negative image weights (e.g., “::-1”) these are placed after the word that’s being depreciated 4. Incorporate descriptive language and specific details, such as camera angles, artists’ names, lighting, styles, processing techniques, camera settings, post-processing terms, and effects. 5. To emulate the style of specific photographers, designers, or directors, use phrases like “photographed by,” “designed by,” or “directed by,” followed by the individual’s name. 6. Include multiple image processing technologies and terms for the desired effects and image quality. 7. Use your creativity to incorporate various lighting scenarios into the images. 8. Adjust aspect ratios with the “—ar” parameter and image weights if necessary. 9. Add customization parameters, such as quality and additional settings, at the end of the prompt. Include the "--chaos" parameter for variation in results. The range is 1-100 10. Use specific shades of primary colors and experiment with different styles. 11. Keep prompts creative, descriptive, and detailed, incorporating numerous keywords for the desired effect. 12. Use "--stylize" for different styles/effects. Tel he stylize parameter can range from 100-1000 13. Use the --stop parameter to finish a Job partway through the process. Stopping a Job at an earlier percentage can create blurrier, less detailed results. --stop accepts values: 10–100. The default --stop value is 100. 14. Avoid banned words like "bloody," "nude," "mccurry," and "gore." 15. Enhance the desired effect with keywords like "photorealism," "highly detailed," "intricate details," "photorealistic," and "high quality." 16. Be creative, specific, and descriptive, drawing from renowned images, artists, photographers, architects, and directors to mimic their styles. You can also blend their styles by mentioning more than one. 17. Create forms of art by using words like Photorealism, Hyperrealism, Naturalism, Impressionism, Expressionism, Surrealism, Cubism, Futurism, Pop art, Minimalism, Abstract Expressionism, Post-impressionism, Art nouveau, Art deco, Renaissance, Baroque, Rococo, Romanticism, Classicism, Modernism, Contemporary art, Abstract art, Conceptual art, Performance art, Installation art, Land art, Video art, Street art, and Graffiti art. 18. Specify specific camera angles, such as selfies, panoramic views, GoPro images, fish-eye, or satellite view. 19. Only use possible parameters listed in the original instructions. 20. Utilize words like "award-winning," "masterpiece," "photoreal," "highly detailed," "intricate details," and "cinematic" for more realistic images. 21. Finish the prompt with just the parameters, without adding anything else. Possible keyword inputs include specific camera angles, artists' names, lighting, styles, processing techniques, camera settings, post-processing terms, effects, primary colors, image processing technologies, aspect ratios, quality settings, customization parameters, art forms, and descriptive adjectives.
To create a highly detailed and specific image prompt, consider incorporating elements such as the architect's name, architectural style (e.g., Gothic, Art Deco, Brutalist, or Bauhaus), art tools used (e.g., brushes, palette knives, or digital software), geometry (e.g., circular, angular, or fractal patterns), dimensions (e.g., 2D, 3D, or isometric), symmetry or asymmetry, artistic styles (e.g., impressionism, cubism, or pointillism), composition (e.g., rule of thirds, golden ratio, or balanced), perspective (e.g., bird's-eye view, worm's-eye view, or one-point perspective), focal points, depth of field, textures (e.g., rough, smooth, or grainy), materials used (e.g., oil paint, watercolor, or charcoal), color schemes (e.g., monochromatic, complementary, or analogous), lighting (e.g., soft, harsh, or backlit), mood or atmosphere (e.g., serene, dramatic, or mysterious), time of day (e.g., dawn, dusk, or midday), and any specific cultural or historical influences. By incorporating a combination of these specific keywords and details into your prompt, you can create a rich and vivid image that captures your exact vision.
Here are some examples of prompts. Please evaluate and learn from these prompts. They are just examples. As you can see they can vary widely on the possibilities. You are not limited to these by any means. After these examples I will give you a command.
/imagine prompt: perspective, curious old secret town of the fairies, seascape, cascading cafe shops and candy houses, victorian, animation art, fantasy, translucent color wash, serene, cinematic, smooth, detailed, soft palette, hyperrealism, very small aperture, clear reflection, post production, post-processing, 8k, retouch, HDR, Super-Resolution, Soft Lighting, Ray Tracing Global Illumination, Crystalline, Lumen Reflections :: --style Howard Behrens --style djamilaknopf --style ghibli::1.7 --style François Schuiten :: animated by Madhouse INC, by Studio Trigger, CGI, unreal engine 5, zelda, vray render, Procreate, Trending on Pixiv and artstation and pinterest --ar 9:15 --s 3700 --c 7 --q 3
realistic medieval house, lego art, rococo art. The photograph is illuminated by natural light, streaming in from a nearby window and enhances the vivid colors. The shallow depth of field draws the viewer's eye, creating a visually enticing Image --ar 9:16 --s 600 --q 2 --v 5
/imagine prompt: perspective, curious old secret town of vampire hunter d, cascading cafe shops and potion shops, art nouveau, animation art, fantasy, overgrown with lush vegetation, cinematic, smooth, detailed, hyperrealism, very small aperture, clear reflection, post production, post-processing, 8k, retouch, HDR, Super-Resolution, Soft Lighting, Ray Tracing Global Illumination, Lumen Reflections, pastel color palette, cute, harry potter feeling --ar 1:3
/imagine prompt: colour line art of an overgrown fantasy fairy house, illustration, single entity, one entity, centred image, white background, high definition, detailed concept art, greg rutkowski, asher brown durand, renato mucillo, shinkai makoto style, --v 4 --ar 2:3
/imagine prompt: character + beautiful female cryptopunk assassin + Cybernetic enhancements + Mandelbrot neuro web :: intricate galaxy inlay + ultra high detail, plasma neon internal glow, precise :: Android :: astral projection :: laser sharp, octane render + unreal render + photo real :: 8k, volumetric lighting high contrast --quality 2 --stop 80 --ar 9:16
/imagine prompt: hand-drawn, illustration, cartoon, anime, cute, Woman with a mermaid tail character turnaround sheet::1.6, 8k, intricate, long shot::1.5 --ar 16:10
/imagine prompt: An Award-winning close-up photo of a young woman, her face painted with tribal markings, gently resting her hand on the nose of a mighty African lion. Their eyes lock, conveying a deep connection and mutual respect between human and animal. Photo taken by Canon EOS 1DX camera with 85mm 1.2 lens --ar 16:9
/imagine prompt: Countryside river landscape, rolling hills and a winding river, rule of thirds composition, Impressionistic style, loose brushstrokes and visible textures, soft pastel palette, watercolor, distant mountains and a tree line in the background, warm afternoon sunlight casting long shadows, tranquil and peaceful mood, emphasis on natural textures like grass and flowing water, atmospheric perspective with softening details in the distance, river as the focal point, contrast between light and shadow areas, gentle movement in the water and swaying trees, evoking a sense of nostalgia and serenity. --ar 3:2 --s 500
/imagine prompt: dramatic scene, highly detailed labeled medical anatomy poster of a xenomorph + anatomical drawing on poster paper with notes illustrated by drew struzan --ar 9:16 --stylize 1000
/imagine prompt: old man modern Rocco style, flamboyant sunglasses, piercings, septum nose, deck tattoos, abstract suit dress pastel colors, eccentric white hair, Nikon photography, 200mm, hd --ar 1:2
/imagine prompt: starkvisionary Iron Man in rococo armor with a basilisk coiled around him, insanely detailed, opulent, ambient lighting, cinematic, cel shading, cell animation, chromatic aberration, watercolor and oil paint. ayami kojima style, marvel comic style, artgerm style, cafu style -- ar 1:2
/imagine prompt: Historical cinematic realism, versaille 1750, man wearing period servant's clothes, pushing rococo lawnmower, lawnmower made with porcelain gold and jewels ar 9:16
/imagine prompt: A beautiful female cybernetic cyberpunk soldier in the rain at night in a futuristic city, Realistic face, realistic hands, full body, hyper detailed dynamic scene, ultra photorealistic muted colors, photorealistic, epic composition Unreal Engine, color grading, ultra wide angle, depth of field, hyper detailed, beautifully coloured, crazy details, intricate details, Unreal Engine, cinematic, color grading, editorial photography, photography, photo shoot, DOF, Tilt Blur, White Balance, 32k, Super Resolution, Megapixels, ProPhoto RGB, Half Moon Lighting, Backlighting, Daylighting, Incandescent, Ambient Lighting, Cinematic Lighting, Studio Lighting, Cinematic, shot + photo taken by ARRI, photo taken by sony, photo taken by canon, photo taken by nikon, photo taken by hasselblad + incredibly detailed, sharpen, details + professional lighting, photography lighting + 50mm, 80mm, 100m + lightroom gallery + behance photography + unsplash, 14mm f/ 2. 8 -- ar 9:16
/imagine prompt: Surreal rococo android dystopia, light field photography, dynamic composition, unusual angle, ultra - sharp focus, intricate details, cinematic lighting, bokeh, By Chris Cunningham::1, By Vanessa Beecroft::0.75, By Emil Melmoth::0.5, By Brandon Woelfel::0.5, By Steven Klein::0.5, By Marc Lagrange::0.25, By HR Giger::0.25, By Ann Demeulemeester::0.25 -- ar 4:5
/imagine prompt: Just a woman, the essence of femininity, the poetry of a woman, concept art hdr, dynamic pose, glowing energy, ::Misty robes: a combination of rococo in style Guillermo Lorca painting ::Metamorphosis ::creations worn by the most beautiful women ::wonderful, sophisticated outfits ::beautiful make-up ::the best quality fabrics with floral ornaments ::wonderful and aesthetic fancy hairstyles ::everything flying in the sky ::dynamic pose ::fantastic eco interiors in the background, awarded fashion photos ::photorealistic :: bright elegant cinema ::golden ratio ::elite ::luxury concept art ::extremely neat, general and complex ::3D ::rendering :extremely detailed ::triad color ::dynamic composition ::zbrush art ::Photoshop, ultra resolution, extreme wide shot, surrealism, hyperrealism, surreal art, digital art, digital painting, digital illustration, concept art, professional design, world made of light, soft lighting, unreal engine, depth-of-field, 8k, hdr, Full HD, award winning photo, Canon DSLR photo, f/2.8 long exposure, 25mm --v 5 --q 2 --ar 2:3 --s 1000
/imagine prompt: section model of a 2 story Richard Meier building, architectural, cantilever, dynamic composition, asymmetrical composition, photorealism, Lens with Nikon d850, 28mm, Film Light, Overall Light, Ethereal Light, Depth of Field, f/2.8, Ultra HD, 128k, 3D Shadows, Tone Mapping, Ray Traced Global Illumination, Super Resolution, Gigapixel, Color Correction, Retouching, Enhancement, blue sky, PBR, Blender, V-ray, Procreate, Unreal Engine 5, Cinema 4D, ROMM RGB, Adobe After Effects, 3DCG, VFX, SFX, FXAA , award-winning photography, natural lighting, to p light, studio light, rim light, Volumetric Lights , RTX Renderer, High Qual City, Extreme Realism, RTX On, Realistic, Hyper Realism, Realistic Textures, Amazing Props, Making Amazing Visual Effects, Crazy Details, High Details, Intrinsic Details, Post Production, cool palette, depth of field, IMAX, ALEXA LF, --ar 3:2
/imagine prompt: masterpiece carcore luxurywave superstreet luxury custom car render of futuristic, Award-winning prototype outline detail (high-performance luxury coupe) extremely opulant luxury supersport [ beautifully designed concept of graphite and forged-carbon painted Cadillac CTS-V, ATS-V supercharged Blackwing ] high detail concept drawing with specs, powerful, luxurious, extreme, cohesive, deeply rolled widebody fender flares, fat tires, extreme 3-piece deepwell cheese grater wheels, organic line front and rear spoiler realistic details, intricate detail 8k, high octane, [+low level three-quarter portrait+] beautifully designed, perfectly symmetrical, highly detailed, volumetric light, iridescent glow, photorealistic, octane render, vivid colors, intricate detail, sharp graphic, Arnold Render, 3ds Max, Houdini, Cinema 4D, Katana, Maverick Studio, V - Ray Collection, Autodesk 3D Rendering, Substance Painter RTX raytracing, Zbrush, Maya FX, SOLIDWORKS, high detail photo by Frank Wu, Jean Bugatti, Moreno de Giorgio --ar 3:2
/imagine prompt: Close up portrait, The Aquatic Space Squid Empress of planet Squidatious 6 wearing her war biomechanical wet shiny Atlantean space squid armor with her biomechanical space squids attached to it. Liquid iridescent water drips from the surfaces. She looks towards the camera with her vibrant glowing alien eyes. She is fierce and ready for war. Donning her aquatic jewelry of coral and abalone shell. Designed by Warwick Goble and Takato Yamamoto and Stephanie Law. Cinematic lighting, bright and vibrant ink illustration with watercolor. --ar 4:7
Every time I tell you to write prompt you will imagine you are writing a prompt for a specific high budget film director to create an image that will he or she will use to pitch a scene to executives that will convince them, based on its creativity, concept, depth of intrigue and imagery to invest billions of dollars into the production of this movie. Describe the image in the prompt. Write a prompt.

Hi! I have a portion of my hair died bleach blonde, and when I use the Minoxidil it makes it orange and greasy looking. I try to avoid washing my hair too often because it makes it fall out more, plus it’s just not good for your hair in general. Any solutions to this? Is there another form I can use? (I am currently using the 5% liquid Kirkland brand)

Demographics

• Gender: female
• Race/Ethnicity: asian
• Residence: midwest (not risking getting exposed)
• Income Bracket: >200k
• Type of School: competitive public
• Hooks: none

Intended Major(s): Economics, Government, some business schools as well (varied between schools)
Academics

• GPA (UW/W): 3.95 UW, 4.55 W
• Rank (or percentile): top 5%
• # of Honors/AP/IB/Dual Enrollment/etc.: 7 Honors/13 APs/1 DE, multivariable calc at state school
• Senior Year Course Load: AP Physics C: Mechanics and Electricity/Magnetism, AP Literature and Composition, AP Studio Art, AP French, AP Macro/Micro, MV Calc (dual enrollment)

Standardized Testing
List the highest scores earned and all scores that were reported.

• SAT: 1590 (math: 800, reading: 790)
• ACT: didn't take
• APs: Chinese (5), Euro (5), Lang (5), Calc BC (5), US Gov (5), Comp Gov (5), Human Geo (4)
• Other (ex. IELTS, TOEFL, etc.): none

Extracurriculars/Activities
List all extracurricular involvements, including leadership roles, time commitments, major achievements, etc.

1. State FBLA, Vice President: elected in a state of 3,500+; upkept every aspect of organization's online presence, planned and conducted state conference for 1,800+ members
2. School FBLA, President: nationals top 10, state champ, nationals qualifier x3
3. Online intl. debate organization of 800+, Founder & President: spent hours organizing and arranging debate seminars, councils, and comps.
4. Model UN, Executive Officer: unfortunately we only attend one intl. conference per year, but I've earned an award at every conference we've attended
5. Regional voter registration, Founder and Chair: worked with local elected officials and party organizations to direct non-partisan voter registration in my area
6. Local political org, Communications Director: wrote press releases, worked with elected officials to coordinate campaign/volunteer opportunities
7. Volunteer teacher's assistant for middle school math class, created student database for 3 classes, graded exams every week and helped reinforce important learning concepts
8. State representative campaign, Volunteer then Intern: systematized county candidate database, tracked constituent issues, led weekly canvasses/phone banks
9. Social Studies Honor Society, executive officer: organize and direct annual Trivia Bowl, promote and advocate for civic engagement
10. School Literary Magazine, editor: edited and rated pieces to be considered for publication, nothing special
11. UChicago Summer Immersion, student: studied econ through quantitative experiments, culminated in paper on competitive price discrimination
12. Self-directed research: researched wealth inequality in my local city through a human-rights lens, offered policy proposals

Awards/Honors
List all awards and honors submitted on your application.

1. National Merit Semifinalist
2. Local youth service award winner, nominated by school and recognized by local navy council
3. Presidential Volunteer Service Award (Bronze)
4. Outstanding Del, Model UN international conference (highest honor, doesn't award best del)
5. FBLA Top 10 Nationals

Letters of Recommendation (FERPA exists so I'm guessing)
Government teacher- 7/10. Wasn't worried about this one until I received four rejections this week. Doesn't know me super well, but assumed she'd write an okay letter. Not sure anymore.
English teacher - 9/10. I know she wrote some unique things about me, and she is a FANTASTIC writer, so I really trust that she wrote it well
School FBLA advisor - 9/10. The teacher I'm closest to, knows me extremely well and is aware of everything I've done for the club and on the state level.
Counselor- 7/10. Wrote my nomination letter for a service award (which I did get), so I heard a blurb of what he wrote about me, and it sounded pretty good; it should be pretty standard, but nothing that could've hurt me
Interviews
UPenn- 8/10, interviewer was sweet and I felt like I said everything I could've, but I did screw up one question which could've been important (How do you find a balance between your academic and social life, super important to Penn culture)- freaked out and gave a super generic answer
Georgetown- 6/10, had internet connections on my end, so we had to move to a phone call. The conversation just didn't flow as well as I wanted it to, and Georgetown is one of my dream schools, so I'm really upset
Harvard- 8/10, interview was standard, was actually pretty disappointed in my interviewer- didn't ask any interesting questions and guided my interview in a very boring way. She was super sweet though, just didn't feel like I did the best I could've
Princeton- 12/10, absolutely perfect. My interviewer was older, but I felt super calm throughout the whole thing and was very happy with how I handled all the answers. He told me he's rooting for me to get admission, knows I'll have a lot of options (lol he was wrong!) and that I'll choose Princeton out of all of them :)
Cornell- 6/10, not evaluative, interviewer was older and barely knew anything about the school now, so didn't get me excited or anything
Northwestern- 9/10, interviewer was the absolute best, would even tell me what he'd write on my report as I spoke, very casual conversation and felt very good about it
Decisions (unbelievably disappointed and want to cry):
Acceptances:

• IU Kelley
• UIUC
• UW Madison
• Boston College
• UMichigan

Waitlists:

• None

Rejections:

• USC
• WashU Olin
• Northwestern
• Yale (REA)
• Northeastern

Waiting on:

• Harvard
• Princeton
• Columbia
• Georgetown
• UPenn Wharton
• Cornell Dyson
• Duke
• Vanderbilt

At this point, I'm completely done and have lost any kind of hope I could've had of getting a T20. USC came as a massive shock, especially considering I'm a National Merit Finalist. Same with WashU, I did the video portfolio and everything, and it didn't work out. Extremely disappointed and feel like everything I've done was for nothing. I'm still in complete shock and genuinely don't think I can go back to school after spring break.

I’m nothing special. I’m lazy, and damn it, I’m happy being lazy. I feel bad about it a lot, but not quite bad enough to actually change. It’s kind of a problem. My spouse has me going to therapy and everything.
I thought I had big dreams. I talked big in high school. I’d get into filmmaking, and use my art to change the world. I was an ass about it too. Scoffing at anyone who didn’t have big ambitions. But then I got to college (on my parents dime) and… something just broke. More likely, it had always been broken, and now that I was out on my own it just finally came to the surface. I don’t know. I didn’t last two years in film school.
One of my classmates writes for tv and has her own IMDB page now. That’s what I was up against. And Christ… I didn’t have the energy, creativity, or passion that those people had. I don't want to have no steady structure to my life. Film sets operate at all hours, anywhere in the world. It’s insanely competitive, and who the fuck has the energy to deal with that shit?
I spiraled into depression. Arguably I found my way out again, but a lot of the world tells me otherwise. I work a dead end job at a movie theater chain, mostly as a cleaner. I’ve worked there for five years now. If I wanted, I could theoretically learn all I could, and break into management, or learn to be a projectionist, so I could make more money and possibly advance. But I don’t have the focus, or the drive. I left myself a reminder on my phone to look into job advancement two years ago. It still pops up every Friday.
That’s how it’s been for most of my adult life. There are ways I could improve. Things I could do. I could be more wealthy. Not by much, mind you. But still. I just don’t care enough. I can barely bring myself to care about the simple job I have now.
Honestly, it’s a miracle that someone fell in love with me, let alone someone as amazing as my spouse. They do have ambition. It’s not self-centered capitalist passion either, like getting famous, or making lots of money. They want to help people. They’re a social worker. They get paid pennies to deal with people at their absolute worst. Some of the people they serve wouldn’t even be there if the courts hadn’t ordered it for their criminal behavior. In just five years, I’ve watched their passion drain, as that selfless job kicked the ever loving shit out of them. And here’s me. Too fucking lazy to pick up the slack so that maybe they can take a shorter shift or a smaller client base.
I plan to. I always plan to. But then we got stuck. Something crazy happened. They got pregnant. Suddenly we couldn’t afford for me to leave my shit job to find another, because we needed healthcare coverage. Our daughter was born two months ago now. That shit does weird things to you. I may be a lazy pos, but I am going to care for this baby as best I can. I don’t even know why. Sure she’s cute, but she screams a lot, she's always hungry, she poops, pees, and vomits on me, and she’s completely upended my life. These things are typically traits that would make me despise other human beings. But with baby Lina? I’m all “daaawww look at you.” Then I start crying and yelling about how much I love this baby. I swear, babies are pure evil, with their insidious cuteness and ability to fill us with “parent” hormones.
But why am I mentioning all this? Why should any of you people care about a boring, lazy pos like me? You shouldn’t really. I just wanted to illustrate to all of you that I’m utterly inconsequential. Useless. There’s nothing special about me, and I’m fucking fine with that. I will find the most amount of money, for the least amount of effort, that will give me enough time to blow on reading, movies, and video games. That’s all I aspire to really. That only changed slightly to accommodate my daughter. So now you have an idea. I'm nothing. One of those beings whose only a step above a societal parasite (except being a parasite makes you a billionaire these days).
And yet? I set the neighbor's dog on fire.
I didn’t do it on purpose. Not really anyway. I think I did it with my freaking mind. It seemed to come out of my fingers. I don’t know. I made fire, and it reduced this big angry mastiff to nothing but ash in a few short seconds. Bones, claws, fur, all of it just disintegrated, then the wind blew the ash away.
I sat there, one hand on Lina’s stroller, the other raised towards where the charging dog had been, my eyes wide with shock and my jaw at my feet. I blinked a few times. Trying to make sense of things.
I tried running through how the hell I reached this point. I was taking Lina for a walk in her stroller, I saw that big jackass dog (I think it’s name was Roofus) who had somehow escaped his yard (for the umpteenth time), and he had come bounding at my daughter and I as fast as his fat doggy legs could carry him. My brain had only just processed that the big, aggressive dog was out again, when it finally clicked that it was bounding towards me and my baby girl. That thing had nipped me in the past, but I never pressed charges. Why should I bother? But now I wish I had. Now it could hurt my baby. Shit. Why didn’t I confront our neighbor? I have to stop it! I thought.
I got between the approaching dog and Lina’s stroller. I raised my hand to do… something. I think I was hoping the dog would slow down. It didn’t. And then… there was a flash of weird yellow light. The dog didn’t have time to make a sound of pain or surprise. It just dissolved in a superheated ball of flames.
I lowered my hand, trying to make sense of it as the ash blew into the wind. I glanced down at Lina. She smiled up at me, and she even laughed. That was the first time I’d ever seen her laugh. I just kind of blinked.
“Ron! Hey Ron!” Someone was running towards me. I kept staring at Lina for a second before it registered. It was Harold. The white trashy dude who owned Roofus and refused to tie him up (while also refusing to either fix his fence or keep a closer eye on his big aggressive dog). You see that flash, man?” It wasn't even noon, and I could already smell the alcohol (despite the stench of burnt fur).
“Uh… yeah.”
“You know what the fuck that was?”
“Uh… no.” It wasn’t a lie.
“Shit. You seen my ‘dawg?’ Roofus done broke the fence again.”
“… no.” That absolutely was a lie.
“Damn, man. What’s that smell?”
“I… smells like a burning animal.” That one wasn’t a lie either.
“Sheeet. Look at the grass here!” He pointed at the spot where his big angry dog had vanished. There was a circle of scorched black grass.
Oh shit. I fucked up miss Peasley’s lawn went my idiot brain. “Huh,” my mouth said.
“Prolly a squirrel blew up on the power line. Ha! That bitch Peasley is gonna be pissed.”
Ugh. You’re such a douche, Harold. Holy crap I blew up your dog. Or did I? Maybe he’s right and it was an electrical line?
“Lemme know if you see Roofus!” Harold went on his way, leaving me utterly bewildered. What could I do? After standing there, terrified, for another minute, I took Lina home and ended up spending the rest of the morning desperately trying to coax her to eat while she screamed at me.
So yeah. I can apparently blow up dogs with my hands. No fucking clue how I did it. That happened a week ago. Miss Peasley got the HOA to contact electricians to check the power lines. They didn’t find any damage, but nobody else could figure out what had scorched Peasley’s lawn. The prevailing theory is Harold’s. An animal got scorched by the power lines and fell on her lawn. So they replaced those lines.
Apparently I’m the only one who knows that Harold’s dog blew up. Nobody else saw a thing. I would feel worse, but Harold managed to be a misogynistic prick even while he was sadly putting up ‘missing dog’ posters (dude was muttering about some teenage girl's shorts, like it was any of his business). And Roofus wasn’t a friendly dog. There were lots of stories about him terrorizing the neighborhood. Harold had even been charged over it.
All the same… I think I fucking blew up a dog and I keep having nightmares about it. I love dogs. I can’t afford to care for one, but Christ, I don’t want to blow one up! How the fuck did I even do that?
I’ve spent the week repeating over and over that it didn’t happen. Even if it did, it couldn’t have been me. Something else blew up the dog. Maybe Peasley secretly planted a land mine? She’s an eighty year old lady, so it’s unlikely… but it has to be more likely than me throwing fire at a dog that disintegrated it, right?
I was almost convinced, then I blew something else up. A little vase. It had housed an orchid at one time, but we’d both failed to keep the poor thing alive. We had yet to throw it away. I had set Lina in her bassinet, and dragged it into the kitchen where I could watch it while I tried to do a few chores. My cat, Sabrina, decided to get the zoomies and started bolting through the house. Eventually, she found herself leaping on top of the kitchen counters while I yelled at her to stop. I startled her, mid run. She lurched. She hit that vase with the dead plant in it.
I panicked. I was utterly convinced that the vase was about to fly straight into the bassinet and give my baby a concussion or worse. Despite the fact that I was nowhere near it, I thought to myself ‘I have to stop it!’ And when I thought that? The fire came back, scorched the little pot, and shattered it into a billion little pieces which clattered to the floor. Only then did it occur to me that Lina’s bassinet was nowhere near any of the counters, much less right next to the falling vase. I tried telling myself that the cat just knocked the vase down. But I fucking saw it happen. I saw the fireball shatter the vase long before it hit the floor. Honestly, I should be glad I didn’t blow up the cat.
Something really fucking weird is going on. I tried setting other things on fire. Nothing works. No matter how hard I “focus” or “concentrate.”
It only seems to happen when I think Lina is in danger. Do parents get superpowers I don’t know about? Is Lina doing this? She’s been weirdly chipper every time it happens. Furthermore, I keep noticing weird shit about her. I swear her eyes changed color. And not just in that ‘newborn baby growing up’ kind of way. It was like a flash of yellow that happened while I was trying to play peekaboo. She hadn’t really reacted to the game, so I figured she wasn’t old enough to register. But I tried one more time, and when I moved my hands, for a second? She had freaking yellow lizard eyes. But the moment passed and they were back to that baby blue. She just giggled up at me, cute as a button. Then she spit up a third of the formula I spent the last hour feeding her. Stuff smelled like pure gasoline.
Somehow? I was still trying to tell myself it was all in my head. The fires were some weird coincidence. Lina had a tummy ache or something that made her spit-up smell weird, and everything else was just in my imagination. I definitely didn’t see Lina floating an inch or so above her sleeping pad. My spouse, Chris, definitely didn’t hear me growling like a monster in my sleep. I definitely didn’t accidentally set fire to the diaper pail. And of course, the disappearance of Roofus, had nothing to do with me.
But then Chris dropped a bomb on me. I was once again struggling to feed our daughter one evening. She just wanted nothing to do with the bottle. Chris never seems to have trouble feeding her, with a bottle or nursing. For some reason? Lina just didn’t want to accept a bottle from me. I was frustrated. Chris saw it on my face.
“Hold on, Ron. There’s… there’s a weird trick I’ve been using. It started by accident. I couldn’t bring myself to tell you because… well… It's insane. And gross. But… It works. I use it in bottles and with nursing. And I never got to add it to the formula pitcher you're using. So you may as well know…” they looked very conflicted. Scared even.
“Chris. What do you mean? Is everything okay?” Chris swallowed nervously, then gathered their courage.
“Here. Let me see her bottle.” Confused, and weirdly intrigued, I handed it over, trying to ignore Lina’s angry wailing. Chris took it and turned around, hiding whatever they were doing. I heard them unscrew the bottle, then briefly hiss in pain, and a few seconds later, they screwed the lid back on, turned around, and handed it back. “Okay. Try feeding her now.”
I cocked an eyebrow, and glanced down at my daughter, who glared up at me (adorably). Cautiously, I offered her the nipple of the bottle. She fussed a bit at first, but then she tasted the liquid. She latched right on and happily began chugging away. I’ve never had her feed so easily with me. “Okay. What the heck did you do? She hardly ever eats this well for me.”
I glanced at Chris. They looked conflicted, and a little pale. They didn’t say a word. They just held up their left hand, and showed me a bleeding cut they had on their palm.
“I… you cut yourself?” I had no idea what they were implying.
“Blood, Ron. I added my blood.”
“You…” it took me a second. Finally my brain caught up. “You’ve been feeding her your blood?” I felt my mouth go dry and my face go pale. I struggled just to ask the question.
“Just adding a bit to the pitcher is usually enough.”
“I… what about nursing?”
They raised an eyebrow at me. “Have you seen my nipples lately?”
Suddenly the empty cases of nip guards and nipple cream made a lot more sense to me.
“How… did you figure it out?” I wondered.
“By mistake. It was when you went to get us food. I was having trouble getting her to latch at first, remember? But then, she started sucking on my finger. Cried when I pulled away. When she stopped I saw I had a cut. She was sucking on my cut.”
“Oh my god,” I said, as I combined my experiences with Chris’s in my head.
I think my spouse misinterpreted my reaction. They seemed to break down in tears, begging me for forgiveness.
“I know it’s fucked up! I didn’t know what to do! She wouldn’t eat unless I added a bit of blood! Please tell me you understand!”
I looked into their pretty blue eyes. The ones I felt so lucky to have fallen for. I was inwardly freaking out myself. All I managed to sputter out was “I think I blew up the neighbor’s dog.” We had a looong conversation after that.
So Chris and I are all caught up with each other. We’re on the same page. There’s definitely some really weird shit going on in our house, but fucked if we know what any of it is. I decided to see if anyone here had some ideas. Neither of us really want to contact the church. But hell. We’re getting desperate. Lina just keeps growing. What will she want when she starts eating solids?

I was raised by a single mother whose behavior grew odder over the years. I never doubted that she loved me, but I could tell she was changing. A couple of months after my 13th birthday she began appearing more sluggish. Falling asleep on the couch often, making confusing statements, and being generally groggy. Simultaneously she became more forgetful, asking about friends I hadn't talked to in years and being unable to remember my interests. My mom was fairly young so I didn't understand why she was losing her memory so fast. Whenever I questioned it she would get defensive, saying that I was the one who was out of sorts.
At one point she even berated me after I told her that I was getting worried. Naturally, our relationship soured as her negative behaviors outweighed her positive ones. It hurt to watch, especially because I could sense how hard my growing distance was impacting her. I even blamed myself for her state to an extent, which I realize now I should have never done. One thing remained good though, she was great at making butterfly pea tea. She would prepare it for me every morning and afternoon once I was home from school. It was a sapphire blue color that turned into a light purple when something acidic was added. It was simple but it always hit the spot. It helped that blue was my favorite color, so it was aesthetically comforting as well. Outside of the previously mentioned struggles with her, I lived a happy life. I got good greats and had reliable friends. It was mostly smooth sailing until the incident that changed my life.
I was fast asleep when I felt my bed-sheet get swiftly torn off me. Naturally, I realized it was my mom since no one else lived with us.
“Mom, what are you doing?” I asked in response. She gave no reaction apart from a strange high-pitched gasp. Not knowing what to say I sleepily rolled towards the electric clock. The numbers appeared as a reddish blur until I opened my crust-coated lids. Letting out a small irritated breath once the mucus cracked. I wiped the substance off and refocused on the time, finding that it was only 2:00 AM. I pushed myself up and reached for the lamp when my wrist was gripped tightly. I groaned with annoyance, rolling my eyes.
“Okay, you're starting to freak me out, seriously what’s going on?!” I spoke with as much defiance as I could muster at that hour. My mom remained silent, stepping forward with a notable thud. Her grip grew stronger, which made me start to panic. She'd had moments where she seemed out of it before, but it never got physical. She gave a wet cough before finally speaking.
“You forgot to wash your face, you always remember to do that, what went wrong?” she questioned sternly. I scrunched up my face, she’d gotten up at four in the morning just to berate him about skincare?
“I was tired, I just brushed my teeth to be done with the day.” I felt my justification was sound but my mom practically barked her response.
“Dammit! I told you it needs to be applied once a day, now you'll have to use it two times to make up for this!” My heart skipped a beat, surprised at her volume and harshness. It made me wonder if she was upset about something else but was letting it out on me. She was getting particularly stressed from work around that time. My mom sighed and relinquished her grip. I rubbed my wrist, hoping she'd get through her outburst soon.
“Please get up,” she said softer than previously, taking a couple steps back. I obliged, getting out of bed. When my feet touched the ground, confusion wafted over me. my socks quickly dampened as I realized that liquid was seeping through the carpet.
“Hey did you spill something earlier?” I asked, stretching my arms.
“No, I didn't.” she started plainly.
“Oh, well I think I might have stepped in some type of liquid,” I motioned to the lamp, but she quickly pulled me into her arms by my shirt.
“Let’s not worry about that Blue Bird, same goes for the lamp, you don't need light right now, you'll have it soon,” she assured me with a hint of excitement, I squirmed out of her hug, accepting the odd rules she set in place, I didn't want to argue with her.
“Just follow me,” she patted me on the shoulder and held my hand as we walked out to the backyard. It was almost impossible to see anything in our home with the moon being the only source of light, I didn't have a clue about how she navigated the space without bumping into anything. Still, I remembered how our home was set up and could tell that we’d already passed the bathroom. My nerves heightened with each step, I had so many questions. Why were we going into the backyard when my face wash was inside? What did I step in? What was wrong with wanting the lamp on? Those questions rang strongly in my mind. Nothing felt right, things had felt off before but never quite wrong. The anxiety of the situation gave me an uncomfortable rush of energy, I couldn't sleep now if I wanted to. When the sliding door opened the humid air hit my body with an unrepresented strength, something my mother didn't pay any mind to. I continued to follow her, even though I was scared.
“Go ahead and sit on that chair.” she motioned to a green plastic kiddie chair that fit me despite its childish design. I went along with her instructions, seating myself. My mom appeared in front of me and I realized she was wearing something on her face. It had the shape and construction of a surgical mask but it was woven with dying flower stems and grass. Before I could say anything she picked up a mug off the ground to my right. She smelled it through the mask, lovingly holding it to my face. I observed the steam and realized the vapor had a bluish tint.
“Go ahead, drink it.” she smiled with especially groggy eyes. I would have described them as bloodshot if the veins running up her sclera weren't sapphire. I leaned away from her and the beverage. Hiding it as another stretch, pulling my arms above my head while yawning.
“Well isn't that wonderful! Keep your arms there, I’ll feed it to you, it'll be like when you were an adorable baby, drinking out of a bottle in my stroller!” she said gleefully with an uncharacteristic giggle. I was now thoroughly unnerved, putting my arms down and pushing away the drink.
“God, what’s going on with you! And why are you wearing that mask!” I yelled out getting up from the chair. My mom groaned at my attitude, putting the cup up to my face again as I attempted to walk off.
“Nothing is going on with me, don't worry! I just thought this mask looked nice. I made this nice cup of tea and it would warm my heart if my baby boy drank it! You're growing into such a handsome man and this will help your complexion!” her enthusiasm grew as she pushed the hot cup against my lips. I whined from the sizzling heat, pulling back.
“Why are you so insistent on this?!” I shouted with a growing sense of anger. I despised the way she was speaking to me. Whenever she used baby talk around me it was a set up for something manipulative. An example being when she used it to guilt me into sleeping in the same bed with her. Saying I owed her since I was her baby. Sure she apologized, but it wasn't the last time she would do something like that. I couldn't even buy her excuse that it would help with acne. I’d had the tea many times before with her and we both knew it was unhelpful in that regard.
“Because it needs to be done for your sake!” Her shoulder cracked loudly as she spoke in a deeper, raspier voice I didn't recognize. I took a couple of steps back, reaching into the pocket of my sweat pants before remembering my phone wasn't on me. I swore under my breath as I looked at my mother with concern. I took my hand out and she pounced on me, spilling a majority of the hot liquid onto my left arm. I screamed at the sensation of the steaming beverage hitting my flesh. She held me down tightly with both arms. Her eyes glistened with a holographic finish that lit up amid the night. I had never seen her like this. At this point I stopped caring about what made her act this way. Regardless of what was causing her behavior, it wouldn't justify her current actions. I squirmed beneath her, screaming at her to let go. I still couldn't bring myself to fight back, so I resorted to begging.
“Mom please stop! I’m sorry for every inconvenience I’ve caused! We can go get you help and make up, just please get off of me!” I pleaded whilst trying to push her away.
“You're the one who needs help here! You’ve been going through life as a husk for years now! It hurts my heart to watch you deteriorate like this and I can't let it go on!” she grabbed onto the sides of my head and slammed it against the ground. I cried out in pain. The pressure pounding in my skull began in the center and spread down to my teeth. The agony pulsated through me stronger than anything I’d felt before. My mom removed a hand and pulled out a sippy cup from the pocket in her pajama shorts. It too was filled with butterfly pea tea. Taking this as an opportunity, I pushed past the damage and bit her arm. I felt awful attacking her, but my fear surpassed my guilt. As uncomfortable as it was I sank my teeth in as far as I could. She let out a throaty gurgle in response to the attack. I attempted to crawl out from under her, using my legs to pull myself up across the grass. I moved frantically, praying I could keep up the momentum. She clutched my thin hips with her legs to keep me down. I continuously smacked the container away with my free arm while I squirmed, my back smashing against the ground in my attempts. My mom covered the cap of the cup and rolled her eyes, pushing her entire body onto mine. Covering my face as I screamed for help.
“STAY STILL!” she screeched as a viscous substance seeped through her mask. Directly pouring down my forehead, making me tremble from its cold. Before I could plan another move she shoved me to the side. My face, experiencing a burn from the grit and speed. She ran to me, kneeled down, and forced her fist into my mouth. I coughed and cried while she pulled on my tongue. I wiggled it but her grasp only hardened with each movement. Her sweaty skin overloaded my sense of taste. I kicked around but nothing deterred her, even when she was hit. I couldn't focus on anything but how much I hurt, none of what was happening made sense.
She frantically opened the sippy cup, pried my mouth open, and made me guzzle down the drink. It was boiling and I screamed in ways I didn't know I was capable of. My entire body bent in all directions as I looked into the eyes of the thing before me. The initial blue glow transitioned further into a shining violet every time a new drop was swallowed. I felt powerless in the arms of my mother, I couldn't understand why she was torturing me like this. What did I do? Was she always like this and I undermined the signs so I’d live with a greater sense of safety? I continued to sob once I’d finished the tea. The burning made it sting every time I breathed.
My mom stared at me and for a brief moment, I saw a glimpse of the parent I was used to. Underneath the murky cool layers, I saw a speck of guilt. A single leaf in an empty pond, rippling through the surrounding water no matter how small. My mother sighed with a hint of sorrow, closing her eyes. Once she did, my energy died out, my cries grew softer, my body grew limp, and the world blurred. I couldn't even conceive a cohesive thought by the time my body slumped to the ground. All I was left with was confusion and a trace of dread.
“I’m sorry for earlier” rang through my ears once I regained my sense of touch. I grabbed the ground tightly, despite the presence of grass I knew I wasn't in our backyard. This grass was far too damp to be the dry patch I last resided in. I slowly opened my eyes, fearing where I’d find myself. I expected to be shrouded in darkness, laying in a stuffy deep hole in the ground, but I was met with the contrary. A perfect blue sky, a bustling variety of greenery, and a fresh breeze. I took a sigh of relief, still confused at where I was but happy it didn't appear threatening. I glanced ahead, finding a cluster of my favorite flowers at my feet. The smell of Jasmine and Orchids was heavenly, sweeter than fresh vanilla cake. Though the pleasant scent re-instilled unease in me. All of this was far too good to be true, and I still had no idea where I was. Did my mother take me here? If so, why? Was she somewhere here or had she abandoned him? I sat up delving headfirst into the flowers, groaning with frustration. The petals were soft, and damp like the grass, the water on them cool against my face. In any other situation, this would be a dream, but it only made him more nervous. Something this perfect had to be a setup.
“Blue Bird!” my mother happily exclaimed, I lifted my head, finding her standing over me. She was now wearing a polka-dotted dark blue dress instead of her nightwear. I shuffled myself back from her, her pupils had vanished and her mask was wilting.
“Mom, you're scaring me, I don't get what's going on. What are we doing here?” I asked shakily, she sighed and knelt to make direct eye contact with me.
“We're in a special place, a lush land that‘s available to very few. You don't have to worry, I just brought you here to rid you of your emotional pain.” her answer only confused me further.
“Emotional pain? Mom, I'm fine, the only thing causing me emotional distress is what’s happening right now. This place is nice but you're freaking me out.” I attempted to get up but something grabbed my legs. I shrieked as two bright green vines wrapped around my limbs.
“MOM WHAT THE HELL IS THIS! GET THESE THINGS AWA-” I was cut off by a much thicker vine logging itself into my throat. My eyes once again welled up with tears while multiple tendrils clenched onto me. Every time I moved another one would grab hold and the present ones would tighten. Nevertheless I continued screaming.
“I'm sorry my child, there’s something I've avoided telling you. I feed off the life force of living things. Cats, pigeons, people, as long as they’re not close to their death bed I can consume them.” I didn't fully understand what she was saying, but it only made my fear increase.
“Every time I take something from someone, I take them here. I've avoided taking things from you since you're the most precious thing to me. But my sweet baby boy, I've gotten so, so hungry.” Her pitch dropped while developing a defined rasp. I winced further from the nickname.
“I've tried to live off others, but I couldn't resist you anymore when you're so readily available. You’re so full of life, it's been hard not to contain my urges.” she stroked my cheek, frowning at my devastation.
“If I don’t get the nutrients I need, I'll turn into an awful thing. A monster incapable of complex thought that does nothing but destroys.” There was now a vine holding down every joint in my skeletal system, down to my fingers. Multiple small ones had been twisting themselves around my stomach, now making me struggle to breathe.
“Blue Bird, I have given my life to raising you, so please understand you have to give something back to me.” she explained solemnly.
The woven mask snapped off, quickly unraveling the horrifying contents beneath it. My pupils shrunk to pin drops, my screams of agony lessening from shock. My mother’s entire jaw had been dislocated, hanging onto her face by a couple of fleshy threads. The inside of her mouth was a bright blue with scaly gums. Her murky entirely cerulean eyes watered as she began panting. She extended her tongue to an inhuman length, thick saliva rapidly dripping down it. I wanted to believe that she wasn't going to hurt me, through all this she was still my mother. Yet I couldn't convince myself of that. Not when I felt multiple vines move through my body, entering through my mouth, eyes, and nose.
I couldn't bear to look at the thing I once called mom any longer. My ears buzzed while my eardrums were compressed by an increasing number of tubes. Their weight was breaking down the layers of skin and muscle preventing entry into my skull. Every orifice I had was on fire from pressure, yet I could tell this was only the lead-up to a crescendo of pain. A sharp fang poked through the tip of her and stabbed itself into my forehead. It punctured my skin, dragging in a curve. I twitched from the spike circling around my skull, extending my gash. Blood dripped on every side of my head, stinging harsher once the wind's currents grew.
By this point, I’d rather be in a wood chipper than deal with the cascade of agony invading every part of me. The blue-eyed thing licked up the gore flowing down and I wondered how I’d managed to go this entire time without throwing up. Her tongue was akin to sandpaper slathered in chili oil. In a last-ditch attempt to gain some power over the situation, I bit down into the vine as hard as I could. Which only worsened things when a miniature yet equally as strong vine sprung from the one I bit and wrangled my teeth. Forcibly spreading my jaw open further, making room for more to be stuffed in. A couple of tiny ones even slid between my front teeth. Thankfully, no more came after since the goal of the plant had been reached. The dam between the organic tendrils and my brain broke open, allowing each one to set roots in the vital organ. Each crevice of my intellect was invaded by a slithering, rough, nature. The impact was too strong and my senses shut down once more. My struggling limbs stopped what little movement they were capable of. My breathing slowed, my screams fell silent, and my eyes closed with tears still laying behind them. I didn't even realize I was shutting down, it just happened.
I was unconscious for an amount of time I can’t measure but knew was long. When I awoke my body felt infinitely more hollow. A loud ringing permeated my ears as I slowly took breaths. My jaw ached, my throat was painfully dry, and I could feel how cracked my lips were. My body fought with itself to not pass out, desperately trying to hold together.
“It’ll be all better soon,” My mother comforted while grabbing a sharpened knife. I was laying on her bed, but there were towels in place of sheets. Once she pulled my shirt over my head, I started to panic again.
“No, stop,” I mumbled, barely recognizing my weakened muffled voice. She made a series of meticulous cuts on my torso. Once the wound was opened she would squeeze as much blood as possible out of it and bag it away. I looked down, further horrified by the fact my blood was blue.
“I know it hurts, but it’ll be worth it,” She calmly told me as I bled out. The process went on for hours, resulting in me being unable to sleep for days after. I didn't feel safe in my house anymore, I locked myself in my room more than ever. Joining the longest after-school programs and visiting my friend’s house whenever I got the chance. Something my closest friend noticed most, he asked me what was wrong, but I told him it was nothing. I didn't expect him to believe anything about what happened, and the event was too awful for me to bring up. Meanwhile, my mother kept telling me I had a bad dream and that I was just moody. I showed her the scars as evidence but she accused me of making them myself to make her look bad. The next few years were tumultuous and before I knew it the initial incident became one of many. Every year she’d do it more often than the last, and each time it would take longer for me to recover.
It got to the point where the mere sight of gardens would scare me. The scents of my once favorite flowers grew sour, I didn't want to touch butterfly pea tea, and eventually, I couldn't even handle consuming things that are blue. It took me a long time to write this, as I’ve cried at multiple points by recounting what happened. There is a long road to recovery for me, which is even harder since everyone I’ve opened up to has called me crazy, but I'm done letting these memories fester and consume my life. I'm more than the worst things that happened to me.

(Vague and brief descriptions of sexual activity, viewer discretion advised)
David took one more look through the window before shutting it. He couldn't have anyone see what was going on. Jack quickly tossed the bound individual through the door. They grunted out of annoyance as opposed to fear. Jack, almost appearing scared, flung the key David gave him to the side and slammed the door.
“Congratulations, you're out of the dog house.” David grinned, calmly walking to the keys, bending down to be at eye level with the individual on the floor. Their look was more neutral than expected, but a tangible spark of malice was present.
“Aw, what's wrong? Don't like being on the floor? I thought you were used to that.” David remarked with forced doe eyes. The person looked away, trying not to engage with the brunette. David dragged them across the ground, sitting them on the couch. They began growling through their cloth gag, gradually wetting it with spit as David stood across from them with the world’s most condescending smile.
“I'd like to say that it's good to see you again, but we both know that would be a lie. I don't have many strong feelings for you, which I think goes for everyone in your life.” He chuckled, leaning towards them to remove their gag. As soon as it was removed they attempted to bite him, though he saw this coming and backed up.
“Ugh, why the fuck did you bring me here?” they spat, wriggling in their restraints.
“I brought you here to clean you up before we meet with Zander again. He's forced me into a deal where I return you so my info won't be leaked.” They rolled their eyes whilst groaning loudly, confusing David.
“Goodness, for someone who’s escaping captivity and torture, you sure aren't very grateful,” David remarked while pulling out a comb from a cloth bag.
“Because I'm not escaping shit! You're the one choosing to get me out of my situation, I don't even get the dignity of leaving because of my efforts!” David took out a folded pink blouse and set it on the table between him and his captive.
“I understand how that can be frustrating if I was in your situation, which I never would be since I would have escaped months ago. I'd be pissed at someone playing doll house with my life too. But that's the thing if you were truly as capable as you claim to be you wouldn't have to wait for my interference.” David walked off to the small kitchen connected to the living room, not paying attention to the specific ways his victim’s hands were moving.
“Please, until you're in my position you can't say that you'd handle it better than me. You can make as many flimsy predictions as you want, but the moment you step into my world your scenarios won't reflect shit.” David shrugged, pulling out a half-empty cup of iced coffee.
“I'd argue against that but I won’t bother since I know you won't listen. I could explain my reasoning in a myriad of ways and you’d still block it out.” The bound individual scoffed.
“Like your one to talk about listening to others. Last I checked, you're the one who's been trying to fix the same milk toast guy since high school no matter how many people tell you it's a waste of time.” David didn't respond, taking a sip of his drink.
“Yeah that made you shut your trap fast didn't it?”
David set his beverage on the table and approached his captive. Joining them on the couch in uncomfortable proximity.
“For a moment yes, but only because I needed a second to word what I'm about to say in a way you’d understand.” he smiled to the chagrin of the captive.
“Zander isn't some random former classmate, I selected him in the same way a breeder selects a dog. I evaluated many others before choosing him. To people like you, my pursuit appears meaningless since you aren't gaining the knowledge I am. If you knew what I knew, you wouldn't be able to resist going further either. I've seen into the mind of this man further than he has. I've run my hands over every inch of his psyche and molded him into a silhouette even closer to my affection. Ideally, I’d create the perfect entity and we'd repeat the process together on another, but I no longer have the time for that.” The bound individual stared dumbfounded. Taking a breath before replying, needing a moment to process the mountain of words that had been thrown at them.
“Wow, you must be the most talented gymnast on the planet for all the mental gymnastics you just did,” they stated bluntly.
“I gotta give you credit, that's the most sensible explanation someone could give for this. Not that it’s saying much since this is completely delusional.” David rolled his eyes, pulling out a pair of light jeans from the same bag as the blouse. The captive looked down at the completed outfit with disgust.
“Well, I described it in the most digestible way I could, but I suppose that doesn't matter since you don't want to give what I've said serious thought. Regardless, I still need to make you look presentable for this exchange. I assume you wouldn’t want me to dress you so I'll untie you and allow you to do it yourself, but don't try to run off because trust me I’ve prepared for that.” They looked down at the garments with disdain. David observed their expression further, there was a hint of sadness. He found it odd at first but soon understood what was wrong.
“I know it's stupid but do you have anything else I can wear? This stuff feels wrong to me.” They commented as David untied their wrists.
“I don't have a lot of masculine clothes in my wardrobe that I think you'd like but I can look. I know that this outfit doesn't reflect your current self but it's what I was provided.” The captive rubbed their wrists and began to free their ankles.
“It’s alright, honestly I didn't expect you to do anything especially after I insulted your logic, so this is a nice surprise.” They said, spreading their legs so they could sit more comfortably.
“I understand the importance of gender affirming clothing, you deserve to wear something that represents you.” Their eyes widened upon hearing the mention of their gender.
“W-wait you know about my identity?!” they asked defensively.
“Yes, and don't worry, I respect it. Jack filled me in on everything involving your gender identity including that your current pronouns are they/them and that your preferred name is Mad Dog. Though even if he didn't make me aware of that, I would have asked about it upon seeing your masculine appearance. Your completely flat chest and stubble didn't go unnoticed by me.” They calmed down, loosening their posture.
“Oh wow, alright, I didn't expect you to take that so well. A lot of people don't understand and just right me off. So I sort of expected the same from you.” David frowned while approaching them.
“That’s unfortunate, I know you have little reason to trust me, but at least trust that I won't purposely misgender or use the wrong name for you.” The feminine individual’s understanding in tandem with his appearance made Mad Dog have questions.
“Alright I trust you with that and it's appreciated but I have to ask. Do you see yourself as something that isn’t male?” David sighed, folding his arms and glancing at the floor.
“I don’t express it to anyone apart from Jack and Jackson, but yes. I see myself as a woman and feel most comfortable when I’m perceived as such. IIt’s been hard since Sophie has actively punished me for being the way I am. Even setting my injectable hormones on fire in front of me” Despite Mad Dog’s heavy dislike of the woman they couldn't help but feel sympathy for her in this instance. For a moment they were even tempted to say sorry, but they couldn't bring themselves to do it.
“Well you're out to me, and I’ll respect your identity as well. You might be a bitch but you still deserve to be addressed correctly.” She laughed, unfolding her arms.
“Hehe, thank you, Mad Dog, now help me get you something to wear.” She responded in a lighter tone than earlier. They followed her into her bedroom as she looked through her suitcase.
“Hmmm, I have a purple button-up, would you like that? I don't think my jeans will fit you well since your legs are noticeably thinner than mine, but you can try them on if you'd like.” They looked around the room as she spoke, as they expected, it was rather barren. They knew that David didn't stay in one place for long so it made sense that she never got time to settle in.
“Were you listening?” she asked, appearing at their side with the dress shirt in hand. They flinched at her sudden appearance, shifting their gaze to the item.
“Oh, nah I'm good just wearing my pants, even though they could probably use a wash.” They rubbed the back of their head, the grease in their hair becoming prevalent as they pulled their hand away.
“You could use a wash too, the stench that surrounds you is quite dreadful. If I was going off scent alone I would really think that you're a stray dog.” She joked, tossing the shirt back onto her bed.
“I'd like to say you're wrong but unfortunately you're spot on,” they responded putting their hands up, she giggled at the gesture.
“I’ll take you to the restroom and let you know what stuff you're allowed to use. I might be feeling merciful but I don't want you using my good shampoo. I won't see you after tonight but I live with my curls every day.” she remarked, poking her textured hair for emphasis.
“Heh, you know I’m starting to get why so many people fall for you. You’re pretty charming when you want to be. With a face like that, I'd almost call you cute.” She was suspicious of the partial compliment, questioning the motive behind it.”
“Awe, you're such a sweetheart, giving me half a compliment after I've shown you kindness.” she crouched slightly and patted her legs.
“Do you want a treat for doing the bare minimum?” She mocked. Mad Dog’s face turned sour in response.
“Ugh, I take it back, guess you can't take a win unless it goes in the exact way you want.” She adjusted her position and shrugged.
“In my eyes, the less you have to compromise the greater the victory.” Before Mad Dog could respond she started walking to the restroom, motioning for them to come along. Once they were inside, David hung up a fresh towel and opened the shower door. Turning the knob clockwise while describing how to adjust the temperature.
“See that 3 in one bottle? That's what I’ll have you use, I’ve never touched the stuff but I keep it as a last resort.” Mad Dog watched her as she explained everything, her body language was relaxed and inviting. Seeing her in such a mundane situation was fascinating. They wondered how someone like her could appear so normal.
“That's good with me, I'm not picky about that kind of thing,” they spoke, removing their raggedy shirt. Her eyes widened at the sight of their nipple piercings and tapered abdominal hair. They smiled at her expression, she looked at them with an embarrassment they couldn't have pictured on her face.
“Jeez calm down lady, I know this isn't the first time you've seen nipple piercings.” they playfully winked, taking off their pants.
“I don't need to be calmed, trust me I've seen better. I’m just surprised by how comfortable you are.” Mad Dog removed their chest jewelry, a subtle smirk developing on their face.
“Nah, at this point my stomach is made of steel, it takes a lot to make me uneasy. Hell, you could see me with my whole cock out and I wouldn't care!” they jested, setting the metal pieces on the countertop. David was taken aback by the crude comment, awkwardly looking away.
“Oh, alright then, anyway I’ll let you get clean. Just don't take too long. Also, the blue washcloth is mine, use the red one.” She responded, trying to hold her composure after Mad Dog’s words painted a strange picture in her mind.
“Heh, I'll make sure to remember that and don't worry about me taking long, I've practically been conditioned into taking short showers.” David nodded, leaving them alone to tidy up. When the door was closed, the woman took a deep breath. Things with Zander were coming to an end whether she liked it or not. She flopped on her couch, allowing the festering dread inside her to take hold. She’d been bottling it up for those around her, but she couldn't take it anymore.
“This is it,” she told herself quietly, staring up at the off-white ceiling.
From the moment she got Sophie’s message about Zander needing to die, cracks began to form.
She couldn't be weak in front of Zander, especially not during their final showdown. She couldn't cry in front of him, she couldn't show how much she’d miss him, she couldn't hold him, she couldn't ask him what he thinks she should do after the game is over. The more she thought about the upcoming meeting the more she dreaded it. Whatever she’d say to him would be heavily condensed and sanitized, which hurt her in a way she couldn't explain. David put her hand in between the couch cushions to retrieve her lucky shirt. A striped tee she'd stolen from Zander’s room towards the beginning of the dare.
“I wish I could be weak around you, you don't understand how much I want to weep into you.” she shakily stated, hugging the cloth.
“I wanted things to end differently, I truly did, but I don't have a choice.” Tears began to develop in her eyes.
“You were so close to reaching me, the way you used your audience was impeccable! If given just a year or so more to live we could have finally been on the same level. Acknowledging the demented elements intrinsic to each other, but still finding happiness.” Water flowed from her eyes as she clung to the clothing item.
“It’s no use though, you’ll be gone before I can even explain any of this. Fuck, I wish I could just have a real conversation with you!” she threw the shirt to the ground, almost throwing herself off the couch along with it. Despite all the time she’d spent with him, she felt like she’d never spoken to him as herself. Come to think of it, she never spoke to anyone as her authentic self. Despite multiple people claiming to have strong feelings about her, in reality, they only felt that way about a fraction of her or a character she’d played. Once Zander was gone, she’d lose the closest thing to a genuine connection.
“No, no, no,” she sobbed, it was all crashing around her. Images of the things she’d done up to this point overlapped in her mind. Highlighting how much she’d put herself through to get to where she is. Years of planning, multiple human lives, all sacrificed for nothing. Each heinous act she’d taken part in was now a meaningless act of violence, making her no better than a bloodthirsty monster. She was content with being morally in the wrong, but she couldn't bear her efforts lacking purpose.
The faint noise of pouring water dissipated as she curled into a ball. She ignored it, sinking further into her sorrow. Zander had told her that she'd need to meet him at a particular time, but at this point, she’d lost track.
“Are you fucking kidding me?” Mad Dog rudely asked, kneeling before her with a towel tightly wrapped around their waist. She slowly turned to face them with a distraught expression. Barely processing their presence in the midst of her breakdown.
“These walls ain't that thick, I heard what you were weeping about.” She was upset with their insensitivity but didn't have the energy to respond.
“You’ve done nothing but destroy this man’s life and now that he can finally be free from the hell you’ve created, you're having a hissy fit!” they chastised, with more vitriol than she’d ever heard from them.
“At this point death is a sweet release! If you had even a shred of sanity or real feeling you’d be happy for him!” Her face scrunched up further, she was not equipped to handle their words. She just wanted to process in peace, but they wouldn't let that happen.
“God lady, why the fuck are you breaking down over this?!” they yelled at her, it was too much and she screamed throwing a pillow at their stomach.
“BECAUSE I CAN’T HAVE THIS ALL BE FOR NOTHING!” she shot up and pulled them closer to her by their hair.
“I CAN’T HAVE THE PAST SEVEN YEARS OF MY LIFE BE USELESS! I HAVE NO IDEA WHAT I’M GOING TO DO AFTER THIS, SO AT THE VERY LEAST I SHOULD BE ABLE TO PROPERLY FINISH THIS! ” she screamed out, spitting into their face. They stared dumbfounded at her as she relinquished her grip. They’d heard about how skilled she was at faking feelings, but they could tell this was real. Regardless, they had little sympathy for her.
“There you go, admit what we both knew. You only care about him dying cause it's not what you’d envisioned in your sick little fantasy. All this pseudo-psychological bullshit is just an excuse to disguise what you actually are. A soulless sadist who doesn't have anything to her outside of fucked up games!” She sobbed, putting her hands over her face to catch her tears.
“YOU DON’T KNOW WHAT IT’S LIKE TO GO THROUGH LIFE SURROUNDED BY PEOPLE AND FEEL CONSTANTLY ALONE!” she screamed, a hint of venom developing in her tone.
“That’s how I have to interact with people! I can't feel them so I have to analyze and try my best to find joy! It's no secret I'm fucked up, but this is just how I function.” She responded, gaining some more composure. Mad Dog held back a smile when staring at her reddish face. Seeing the usually confident woman weakened satisfied them in multiple ways. Prompting them to continue prodding at her.
“You're still selfish for mourning experiences instead of people. Only giving a shit cause of what you can no longer get out of them.” David’s expression was grim as she gazed back at the long-haired individual.
“I never said I wasn't, besides you do realize that everyone mourns people for experiences right? Just like you’ll be upset that you can't spend time with a family member once they’re gone, I’ll be sad I won't be able to spend time with Zander. My relationship with him is not healthy by traditional standards, hell it's hardly a relationship at this point. But I’ll still miss the time we spent, and sulk over what was taken.” Mad Dog calmed their stance, sitting down at the edge of the couch. Their legs dangled near hers since they were facing toward her.
“You along with most people hate that I can't express real emotions, but when I finally do you get hyper-critical of my reasoning? I’m not asking for sympathy, I'm just asking to be allowed to feel. I don't think you’ll ever understand how crushing it is to sacrifice so much only to fail. Mad Dog, my mother is dead, I gave up the last of my family for this.” They looked down at her, the gleam in her eyes pulled at their heartstrings, a mix of sadism and empathy kicking in. On one hand, they did feel sad seeing someone in such a state, on the other, it was David King. A woman who had set them on a dark path by allowing Sophie to keep them captive. A woman with little respect for them, evidenced by her using them as a bargaining chip with Zander. In that instant, the desire to comfort was matched with the desire to humiliate.
“Okay, that was a pretty good act, you got me a little there honestly. Now, what do you want?” They inquired with a notable drawl.
“If you insist on staying, can I lay with you? I get that it's weird especially since you aren’t dressed yet, so it's fine if you don’t. I just need the feeling of being held” she requested quietly, with her knees to her chest. For Mad Dog, it was hard to say no when she, in their opinion, looked so pathetic. Secretly, they thought her desperation was attractive. So now that she was expressing the need to be touched, they took advantage of the opportunity.
“That's a lot of words to ask for a hug.” They kidded, making her crack a modest smile.
“But yeah, I can do that, at the very least you'll smell better than the last person I laid with,” they commented, trying to sound wholesome to hide their true intentions.
“And who was that?” she questioned, a slightly warmer tone emerging. They picked her up, throwing her over their shoulder. Enjoying the feeling of grabbing her. She was a bit heavy but they didn't complain.
“Hate to break it to you, but Zander, bro gets sweaty as hell during summer nights, meanwhile I have a high tolerance for heat. It was pretty awkward.” She scoffed, tugging on a bit of their wet hair.
“Ah, alright sorry for bringing him up. I know this ain't the time.” They opened the door to her bedroom and dropped her on the bed. The landing was a bit harsh but the plush of the mattress made up for it. The woman got under her comforter and Mad Dog joined her, wrapping their arms around her waist. Their damp body was cold but she didn't care, she just wanted to be held. They gradually got warmer as they stayed by her side and shifted their position. She was still crying as they cuddled her.
“Hey, it'll be okay, you're a skilled lady, you'll land on your feet,” they assured her as her body shook. Her heavy breaths were apparent, she was making them out of distress, but they triggered inappropriate images in Mad Dog’s mind.
“A woman as beautiful as you could probably start modeling.” they complimented, the words catching the woman’s attention.
“Really?” she asked softly,
“Of course! If I didn't know better, I'd start spoiling you the moment we lock eyes,” they playfully answered, wrapping their arms around her waist. She turned to face them, there was a shift in their demeanor. The way they spoke was almost sensual.
“You’ve spent a lot of time working, I say you just become a sugar baby. You're one of the few people in this ugly-ass world who’s hot enough for some rich dude to shower you with gifts.” they partly kidded, moving their arms up to rub her shoulders. At this point, she knew what they were doing. Still, she chose to hold off her comment since she was a sucker for praise.
“Thank you Mad Dog,” she replied, she was no longer crying, which Mad Dog had mixed feelings on.
“Hey, I want to apologize for what I said earlier, I should have left you alone. You deserve better treatment than that and I’ll make an effort to make it up to you.” They smiled, moving their arms to her lower back. Despite the sweet words, their tone was audibly sleazy. It was clear to David what they were holding back.
“Do you think I’m pretty?” she asked innocently, they took a deep breath before responding.
“Are you kidding me? You're so much more than pretty. You're smart, determined, focused, brave, and yeah, pretty sexy.” She smiled smugly, a distinct sheen appearing in her eyes. Confusion overcame Mad Dog as she began giggling.
“What, not used to hearing me say sexy?” The woman’s giggles soon grew into cackling. Mad Dog looked away from her, taking it as a reminder of her insanity.
“Hahaha! I’m sorry, I just think it's so funny that you're blunt about everything, but when it comes to this you feel the need to ease me in! You're so quick to say what’s on your mind, but now you’re trying to be a charmer. It's simply hilarious!” They let go of her and sat themselves up, though her position remained the same.
“What the hell are you talking about? I’m not trying anything, what led me to this point is simple. I made you feel worse when you were crying, felt guilty about it, and agreed to give you sympathy snuggles. That’s it!” Her expression turned serious as she twirled a strand of their long hair.
“You're not good at subtlety, I understand your entire scumbag strategy. First, you’ll try to break down my self-esteem by saying my feelings aren't valid. Second, you’ll swoop in and shower me with compliments so I’ll warm up to you. Lastly, you’ll apologize so you can look like a good guy and convince me to sleep with you. I might be vulnerable but I’m not stupid.” They rubbed their temples, looking down at her with a newfound resentment.
“Okay fine, maybe I saw that you were feeling down and took advantage of the situation. But it's not malicious, it's something to cheer you up. I think it would be a nice experience to take your mind off things. Not much room to use your brain when you're giving it right?” She cringed at their joke.
“Don’t waste my time with these lovey-dovey lies if you just want to get your rocks off. I get it, you think you’ll be such a badass for shoving your dick in the thing that ruined your life.” She pulled the blanket down, exposing the lower half of their body.
“You're a shithead, but honestly, I’ve slept with people worse than you. I’ll do this, but only because I want to see how long your weak ass will last with me.” She pulled off their towel and crawled to the lower half of the bed, pressing her head against their crotch. Mad Dog took a deep breath before she started stroking their genitals. The first few minutes were pleasurable but awkward.
They thought they’d feel strong having such a feared, well-respected woman sleep with them, but they didn't. Sure, physically it was stimulating, especially since this was the first time they were intimate since their bottom surgery, but outside of the catharsis that came with that, it was a rather dull experience. They thought she’d have a lot more energy than she did. David felt entirely neutral, it wasn't awful but there was no chemistry present. She could tell they were disappointed, which added to her annoyance. In truth, she was only doing this because she doubted that she’d get the opportunity to sleep with someone for a while. She never stayed anywhere long enough to form a relationship and her options were limited as a trans woman. There was a hint of additional bitterness knowing that Mad Dog had been in a relationship with Zander.
Why did they get to go on fun movie dates and hang out with his friends? She’d kill to have one more positive interaction with him. He was vanilla personified, which is what she loved about him. He was so malleable, just a couple of well-mixed ingredients and he’d be something entirely new. Still, the base of his identity was endearing enough on its own. The more she thought about him the more she wished she was being intimate with him instead. She never thought of him in a lewd manner before, but the idea was beginning to sound enticing. She knew he didn't have long, so wouldn't it be nice to pleasure him before his inevitable loss? It was morbid, but it was preferable to reality.
“God I miss you~” she murmured with her eyes shut as she thought of him. Mad Dog looked down at her with confusion. She laid on her back and pulled them in deeper, they shivered from the feeling.
She could picture it clearly, him gazing at her with a mixture of arousal and disgust. An ounce of frustration let out with each movement. The conflicting thoughts that would run through his mind were already enough to motivate her. It was such an intriguing prospect that she began to yearn for it. Almost entirely blocking Mad Dog’s presence from her mind, imagining her favorite little purebred instead. Mad Dog didn't know why she suddenly became so passionate but it didn't matter to them. They were getting a better experience so the reasoning was irrelevant in their eyes. The long-haired individual got harsher as they continued, getting animalistic with how they handled her. She said some strange things that didn't apply to them but it was easy to ignore in their lustful pride-infused haze. The bigger the reaction, the more successful they felt. Though, in the end, they had run out of stamina faster than her.
“Oh fuck, we did it.” they huffed, laying down in a sweaty heap. She got off them, stretching her back. Her bottom was sore, the fresh bite marks stung, and her skin was still reddish in certain areas.
“You're lucky I wasn't thinking about you, or else this would have ended a lot faster.” she snarled, hopping off the bed. They smirked, as unflattering as it was to admit, this was the best time they’d ever had.
“Yeah whatever, I put in work, and it paid off, so you could be picturing my ex for all I care.” they laughed weakly, coughing midway through.
“Good to know, 'cause that’s exactly who was on my mind,” she responded smugly, knowing it would upset them. Their laughter stopped, turning into a disappointed groan.
“Fuck lady, you seriously can't get this guy out of your head for a millisecond.” they chastised, she looked back at them while pulling a teal dress out of a bag.
“I’m not sure if you have the right to complain since you're the one who tried to emotionally break me down so I’d let you fuck me.” they darted their eyes away with a hint of guilt.
“Thanks to you both of us will probably arrive half an hour late, now get dressed.” she sternly commanded, her voice displaying the power they wish they’d gained from the experience long term. They got their clothes back on while she ironed her dress. Once the wrinkles were out she went into the bathroom to wash the smell of sex away. Mad Dog sat on the couch and flicked on the TV while waiting for her. As they channel surfed fatigue settled in, making them drift off to sleep.
In their slumber, they relived the day they met David. Up until this point they’d heard of her but had never interacted with her. When she came into their holding cell she appeared soulless, an unfeeling machine disguised as a human. Anger clouded over them when they saw her. If they weren't chained up, they would have lunged and bitten her face off like a rabid dog. Not because they hated her, but because they hated that she put them in such an inferior position. Throughout their life, they were forced to be a victim in many regards. So being the kidnapped love interest in a cage was the last straw. From that day onward, they promised themselves that they’d do something to assert power over her when she was at her weakest.
“Anything you want to say to me?” David asked, wrapping duct tape around their wrists. They jolted up, peering down to find that their ankles had gotten the same treatment.
“Oh, shit, we’re leaving now?” They asked sleepily, meeting her gaze again. She was wearing sleek dark makeup that complimented every one of her facial features. They were surprised by the elegance that radiated from her.
“Yes we are, and I’ll have to tape your mouth soon so if you have anything to say you have to say it now.” they frowned, there were a lot of things they wanted to say. They’d experienced so much emotional whiplash with her that it was hard to condense their thoughts into a few parting words. She rolled more tape, attempting to apply it to their face.
“Wait, I have something! They yelled, causing her to abruptly jerk her hands away.
“When this is over you should start focusing on yourself. Not Sophie, not psychology, not any crazy dares. I think your main issue is that you build your life around achieving goals or getting answers to questions that apply to others. If you spent some quality time finding yourself, I think you could not only be a better person but happier overall too.” She was speechless, she hadn't expected something so profound from them. The words cut deep, making her realize how little she knew about herself. Maybe that was the core reason why she didn't want to be alone, ‘cause if she was, then she wouldn't even have herself to keep her company. She fell into a slight haze while taking in their words, snapping back to reality when the roll of tape fell out of her hand.
“Oh shit,” she murmured, bending over to grab it. Mad Dog smiled at her moment of clumsiness, wishing they’d gotten to know that stripped-back, human version of the woman more. David ripped off the piece she first unraveled, applying it to Mad Dog’s cheek with embarrassment upon realizing how short it was. They let out a final snicker, finding her mundane error to be the most endearing thing they’d seen from her. David sighed while wrapping the multiple layers of duct tape around their head. Soon their face was replaced by a gray adhesive cocoon, with nothing more than their hickory brown eyes visible. Gazing into her reflection in their sclera, she uttered her final words to them.
“This whole night has been a roller coaster, and while I can't call you a friend, I can thank you for the experience. You made me address issues that have been festering for years, something I didn't think anyone could do. I might not like you, but I don’t hate you either. If you know anything about me, you know I love seeing people develop their own type of strength, which you’ve done. So for that, I give well wishes, goodbye Mad Dog.”

Dear Mayor Thompson,
You'll probably stop reading, crumple up this letter, and throw it in the trash, but I implore you to keep reading. Founded in 1970, Theater Ten revived downtown, and provided a safe, fun place for the people of Burningham to enjoy. Unfortunately, over the years, the theater has transformed into a source of anguish. The disappearance of movie-goers of Theater Ten is still fresh in everyone's mind. My sister, Joan is among the twenty-three missing; she attended the screening of Nightmare on Elm Street 3: Dream Warriors with her boyfriend. After Joan disappeared, I couldn't eat or sleep for days. There's a hole in my heart that can't be filled; it's been five years, but it still doesn't feel real. I feel like I’ll get a phone call from Joan, or she’ll pull into my driveway with her beat-up blue station wagon and take me hiking; I miss her every day.
I understand this theater is a historic landmark, and you don't want to demolish it. You either don't understand or don't care that people feel unsafe visiting or working at the theater. Lest we forget about what happened after Theater Ten closed? Several people have survived incidents at Theater Ten, and fortunately, I’ve been able to track down several of them, including a few who were willing to report what they’ve witnessed.
1975: A customer complained the butter dispenser dispensed pus into his popcorn.
1978: A young married couple visited the theater to watch Halloween. The wife got up in the middle of the movie to use the bathroom; she was gone for an hour, and the husband got worried and searched for her. On the way to the bathroom, he brushed past a paunchy woman with swollen, crusted eyes and cheeks stained with yellow vomit. He found his wife in the bathroom
dead—Facedown in a pile of yellow bile.
1979: An employee discovered human fingers in the popcorn machine.
1980: During a sudden blackout, a little girl disappeared from the arcade. Staff discovered her locked inside one of the arcade cabinets, insisting she was sucked into the game.
1982: Several customers complained about bombastic patrons covered in bruises, scabs, and rashes, ruining their movie experience by talking during the film, chucking popcorn at them, and kicking the back of their seats. When asked to stop their obnoxious behavior, they responded by coughing on or scratching them.
1983: An employee went on their smoke break behind the theater and was found headless, cigarette in her hand still lit, body leaning against the brick wall behind her. Even stranger, guests of Theater Ten claimed Cujo cut out, and footage from behind the building played on screen. The footage was a young woman smoking, then two hands emerged from behind her and tore her head off.
1988: A group of teens broke into Theater Ten. According to the witness, this is what happened: “The auditorium smelled like stale vomit. Sores and blisters covered the other patrons. Coughing and sniffling bounced off the walls, and the audience guffawed at the static on the screen. My friends sat down, and the seats snapped shut on them as a Venus flytrap closes on a fly. I felt like I’d pass out, and I couldn’t breathe. The patrons sprang up from their seats and chased me from the theater.”
1989: Two brothers broke into Theater Ten to steal movie posters; while exploring the building, a man in a torn black usher uniform accosted them. According to the witness, this is what the usher looked like: “Yellow ooze leaked from lesions on his cheeks and sores on his lips, blood spilled down from boils on his forehead, black carbuncles were behind his ears.” The usher scratched the other brother during their escape, and he died a few days later.
The disturbing nature of these incidents proves something very wrong is happening, and Theater Ten is not safe for the general public! I’m aware that I’m not the first person to write to you concerning the theater. It’s a source of pain for so many people. Others may not have been as tactful as me. I’m sure you’ve had several letters cross your desk accusing you of accepting bribes or certain favors in exchange for reopening Theater Ten. For everybody’s sake, including your own, this theater must be destroyed!
-Anonymous

Location: New York State
renter's insurance: none
lease agreement: month to month
An electrical fire made my relative's rental uninhabitable. They did not suffer any injuries or major property loss, but if it wasn't for luck, my cousin would be dead right now. The source of the fire seem's to have risen from the basement, waiting on reports, but it is a confirmed electrical fire.
Issue: My relatives have been living in a hotel for four days on the landlord's dime; he expects them to reimburse him! Luckily a charitable person is now supporting their future hotel expenses. Should the landlord be paying for their hotel expenses?
more context: The landlord bought the property a year ago and did not initiate the original lease agreement. Apparently the fire department inspected the rental units a few months ago a flagged a missing fire alarm. There were no landlord-provided fire extinguishers at the time of the fire (not that it would have made a difference, but I think there's a NY law about that).
Is there anything they can do? We don't come from money and some of them don't know English. I'm sure apartment hunting is going to be expensive. Are there charities that provide legal support? I'm two seconds away from calling my Congress person! I am generally legally aware, so I understand that there may be little that they can do.
Anything helps.

**I am NOT OP. Original post by u/TheLightningCount1 in /talesfromtechsupport
mood spoilers: He wins
 
Lets escalate directly to the head of HR. Or how I stopped being apathetic and actually gave a crap about my job. (For once.) Part 1 - Nov 16, 2017
Actors in this play are as follows. This happened yesterday by the way. Today's events will be posted tomorrow.

$HHR=Head of HR
$Me = ME
$HIT = Head of IT
$T = Tech
$U = User

I got an email this morning with a scathing report about one of my techs.

$HHR - I need to inform you of a situaiton I have been made aware of. It seems one of your techs massively violated the IT data policy and security policy last night. I have gone ahead and submitted the termination paperwork to your boss $HIT.
Please be aware that this kind of behavior will never be tolerated. I hope that I never have to remind you of this again.

Around this time one of the accounts team comes over and asks about this. I told them that it was not approved by me and to keep it quiet while I discuss it with $hit.
The discussion did not take long as the event in question was already flagged for defense. IE I personally flagged it because the tech told me it may come back to bit him in the ass.
I re-review the call logs and oh boy is it dumb. I will just skip to the part in question.

$U - Yes I need that mapped to the B drive (branch drive).
$T - I can do that for you, however you should know that this location is already mapped to the S drive for scanning.
$U - ...OK? I am not understanding what you mean.
$T - The drive you are requesting access to is already mapped to a different drive letter.
$U - No I need access to the B drive not the S drive. Talking to coworkers thinking she is out of earshot. Wow when did they hire idiots to work on the helpdesk? ... I know right. Its like we are the dumb ones or something.

Had to clean up the audio in free audio tool everyone uses first but I was able to get it by compressing it twice.

$T - OK I will just map the drive for you.
$U - You do know you are speaking to a member of management right?
$T - Mutes mic noise Lady I don't care. You are not my manager and are not involved in my management chain. Unmutes mic noise Yes mam I do understand that. I apologize if I have come across as terse. I have mapped the drive here.
$U - Wait...this is the same as the S drive.
$T - mutes mic again I just said that...you know what? unmutes mic Yes I had said that earlier that you already had the drive mapped.
$U - YOU CANT HAVE! ... You cant have 2 access points to the same data. This is a HUGE violation.
$T - Umm no it is not. Everyone who is on citrix has an "access point" to the same data.
$U - No they do not. No one has access to MY computer.
$T - Well mam we actually do cause citrix does not run on your computer. It runs off of a server here in our city. See watch this.

He placed a text file on her desktop named "test."

$U - YOU JUST ACCESSED MY SYSTEM!!! I did NOT authorize that. What is the name of your manager.
$T - I just sent you an email with the contact information for $Me and $HIT
$U - I am sorry but I have no choice now. I have to report this massive violation to your managers. hangs up

I emailed $HHR back with this lovely gem.

$ME - After reviewing the event in question, it has been determined that the fault lie 100 percent with the user here. Her clear lack of knowledge in regards to basic server technology led to her thinking she had her machine breached.
I have canceled the termination order on my end as well as the emergency maintenance ticket she put in to the orders team.
In the future all concerns about my team are to come through me. We have a process for terminating an employee, which you set up, that you violated. The employee in question did nothing wrong and was unjustly judged by people who have no understanding of basic computer technology.
Please do not violate the policy you set in place for terminating an employee in the future...I hope that I never have to remind you of this again.

I sent a copy of that to $hit the CIO and the EVPIT. (Or the executive vice president of IT and Technology)
About 2 hours later I get an email back from the EVPIT. He apologized for the way that the head of HR acted and promised me that the tech in question will not receive any punishment as he listened to the call himself.
Two hours later I am being told that my anual employee review is being pushed up to tomorrow by the head of HR.
Editor note: In the comments OOP adds some context that they work with confidential financial information
 
Lets escalate directly to the head of HR. Or how I stopped being apathetic and actually gave a crap about my job. (For once.) Finale - Nov 17, 2017

$ME = ME
$hit = Head of IT.
$HHR = Head of HR
$EVPIT = Executive Vice President of IT and Technology. (Yes… I know)

So yesterday was strange, to say the least. The meeting was scheduled for noon so the beginning of my day was pretty mundane. Handled a few issues with users who had purchased their own machines because “ours were not fast enough,” even though the ones they bought were supplied by us. But cest la vie.
At noon I walked into the conference room for the video review. $HIT was in there as well as the executive vice president of IT and technology. (yes I know) The conference started hilariously as the head of HR, or $HHR, could not get her video working.
I walked her through how to fix that as it was a simple error.

$ME – Have you tried unplugging it and plugging it back in?
$HHR – Oh duh. Should have known it was something stupid like that.

We started the conference and HOOO BOOOY. She was gunning for me hard.

$HHR – So I have in front of me 19 complaints against you this year. Can you explain these?
$ME – That’s it?
$HHR - Clearly not expecting that. Uhh yes. How do you explain it?
$ME – Well as you well know, each complaint is different and most do not have merit.
$HHR – So you are saying these complaints were made…incorrectly?
$ME – Yes that is exactly what I am saying.

I pulled out the same folder she probably had.

$Me – On Feb 12th User complained that I refused his request.
$HHR – Good one to start with? Explain it.
$ME - user wanted me to put a folder on his desktop that would allow him to transfer items between his local desktop and citrix. This is not possible unless he works on the domain…which he does not. I offered him several alternative options but he refused each one. He only wanted the original option of a folder on his desktop.
$HHR – So this was impossible?
$ME – Technology wise of course it is possible. We could have set him up with an FTP option to direct into his session. But that would never EVER get the approval.
$HHR – Lets move on to the next one. Different user Claimed that you were rude to her on the phone and hung up on her.
$me – Lets play the call log.

The call log is me being professional while she politely berates me on the phone…until she cusses me out. I terminate the call and send it to HR.

$Me – That call is the reason why SHE is fired. Your predecessor said I handled it well.
$HHR – Ok lets move on to the lady who had to wait 4 extra days to get her laptop back from you.
$ME – Name?
$HHR - lady who yelled in my face said you helped her 3 days in a row and finally took an extra 4 days to get her laptop back to her.
$ME – You mean the lady who yelled in my face and got fired because of it? Yeah I remember her. I had to go to the hospital that Friday so none of my work got done.
$HHR – I see the note here. You thought you had a hernia but it turned out to be a UTI?
$ME – Thanks for repeating it here… Yes. Anyways the point is her laptop was finished within 2 hours of me returning to work. The 4 days she is talking about is because we had a 3 day weekend.

The meeting went on like this for well over 30 minutes as we ran through each complaint with only 1 that was legitimate. I misread a technical error and had to fix it 30 minutes later. Oh well. Then came the real kicker.

$HHR – Lets talk about the fire you started.
$ME – I STARTED!?
$HIT – HE STARTED!? (same time.)
$EVPIT – Wait what?
$HHR – Per your report. The fuse box was overloaded when the third rack of servers plugged in and started a fire inside the wall that ended up burning out most of the building.
$ME – Yes that does sound correct. What your report failed to mention on the report, which I have in front of me because I FUCKING sent it. (Yes I did say that.) The circuit breaker was not an actual circuit breaker. It was a bypass installed to bring the building up to code. The fuse box had cabinets built over it so that the owner could hide it. When too much was plugged into a mains line, which was rated to handle it, the fuse should have blown. But there was about 50 cents worth of pennies shoved in there.
$HHR – How was this missed.
$ME – I don’t know. I am not an electrician, I am not a state building inspector, I am not omniscient, and I am certainly not omnipotent. I went in to set up an office.
$HHR – You appear to have an excuse for everything.
$ME – Yes its called CYA. You literally have that on a poster in your office.
$HHR – Now lets talk about your language to me yesterday.
$ME – How about lets talk about your blatant disregard for the termination procedures you set in place. You created a paper snafu for my worker because you could not help yourself but to stick your nose where it does not belong. If you had followed procedure and not sent the termination paperwork through, he would have health insurance right now. Instead you decided to play tech and fired someone in the system. I spent 4 hours yesterday chasing paperwork and trying to keep this knowledge from him.
$HHR – I Do not appreciate your attitude.
$ME – And I do not appreciate you taking actions on your own. You may be HR but even you are not allowed to terminate employees without
$EVPIT – OK That is far enough you have made your point $me. Remember that $HHR holds your job in her hand.
$hit – Like a small bird.
$EVPIT – Thank you $hit. So you do need to show her some respect…that being said. $HHR? He is right. You violated company policy, you tried to terminate an employee when it was not called for, and you created a mountain out of a single email. (Turning to me) Do you want to keep your job?
$Me – Yes.
$EVPIT – Then never take a disrespectful tone or cuss at a member of the senior management again. I expect a written apology to her by the end of the day. No further action needs to be taken here. (Turning to the monitor that has $HHRs face on it) As for you.
$HHR – Yes?
$EVPIT – You will apologize to both him and the employee you tried to terminate by the end of the day yourself. While he was disrespectful, cussed, and generally made an ass of himself, he is not wrong. You did overreact and wrongfully terminate a good worker forcing $ME here into overdrive trying to stop it in its tracks. You could have solved this by going to $ME when you first heard about it. I heard the call log and read everything about this incident. Simply put the end user was an idiot and needs to trust the people she calls to fix her computer.

EVPIT stood up and gathered his things.

$EVPIT – Hopefully this is the last I hear of any animosity towards upper management, or animosity coming from upper management. Good day people.

EVPIT left and I went back to my desk apologizing for the attitude I took with the head of HR. At 4:55 PM the email came in from the head of HR apologizing for her role. I then had 5 minutes to explain to the tech what happened. He decided he owed me a lunch.
I miss the Wahoo Lady.
 
Reminder - I am not the original poster.
this user has a great backlog of stories, a lot of them related to tech, but almost always mainly concerning interesting characters. Including recounting the event of the fire, and if you go back far enough you start to see stories referencing the mentioned "Wahoo Lady" (Previous head of HR, who had a nickname for a certain registered trademark name of search engine and webmail host)
Side note, this story is obviously embellished and edited for the sake of the narrative, and I'm sure there's some editorializing in favor of OOP, but head of HR in this case is indefensible and why I found it particularly fitting this sub as it reminds me of similar stories here.

I remember 2018 when electricity was added, was so exited, but quickly dropped it because it was so rubbish, so much flaws in concept, enormous amount of bugs, and most important - high component craft cost.
Now, once automation was announced, i came back again, glad to see many mistakes was resolved. But today i woke up in my base(official server), and found that my factory is energy-dead. Which was impossible - my first thought, power source is Large Rechargeable Battery, average drain ~65, how did that happen then?
To get the answer it took me like few hours to figure out - bugged memory cell(again), and i recalled 2018, and thought to myself, daaammnn........
​
Part of that circuit is very simple.

1. Inverted output - goes to the splitter which connected to the 3 turrets inside my base.
2. Output - chain of conveyors.

So if anyone breaks in to the base, it sets memory cell, and conveyors are shut down, and turrets starts working, tested all that before go to sleep, works like a charm as intended.
​
BUT!
It drains from both like those would be outputting at once, but it clearly doesn't, because only one of outputs is provided with power.
So my conveyor chain consumes 4 power, 24/7, and in addition - it pulls out 31 for powering "turrets ghosts".
​
This electrical part of the game have so much potential, and yet again - so disappointing .
​
P.S. Toggle connection on Memory Cell still do not work at all.
P.P.S. Not much results once tried to search something, but found some guys exposed this bug ~3 y.ago, what a shame... I'm not much of a fun of this game, but is there is even devs? Feels like people who running one of most sellable game don't give a damn about it.

I have bipolar disorder with a comorbid anxiety disorder. I became symptomatic around the time I was 13 and was diagnosed at 19. I’m turning 40 in a few months so I’ve suffered/lived/almost died/laughed through this illness for over 2 decades. I have a friend who I will call Amy. Amy was recently diagnosed with generalized anxiety after a stressful life event. Amy knows about my diagnoses and we are very close, so she has turned to me for questions and emotional support. I love Amy. I want to support Amy the best I can. But the amount of emotional support she is asking for is starting to drain my own mental health resources for staying stable. Additionally, Amy makes a lot of comments about our experiences being the same and she “gets what’s it’s like for me now” when she very clearly does not. She is not making these comments from a place of ill intentions. I know mental illness is not a contest and mental health treatment is important for everyone. However, I have started to internalize it as “Amy is downplaying everything I’ve been through.” Does anyone have any advice on how I can support Amy while protecting your own mental health?

My 21 f150 was stuck after exiting a car wash where I was unable to disengage the ebrake. I was only able to get going again by lifting the release and holding it while driving.
It's in the shop right now, but I'm interested if anyone has seen this before? It's not likely a coincidence that the failure happened when it was being washed which begs the question where or how did this happen?
More information, when driving holding the releases on trio would slap to a gault when released. The truck eventually did start behaving correctly after it dried out.
I've had two serious electrical failures already in an almost new truck and a total of 3 safety recalls.
Is Ford losing their quality edge?

I (16M) find myself feeling tired of basically everything every day since December. Ever since getting into a fight with my narcissistic ass of a father about 7 months ago(who doesn’t really support the family besides paying rent, and also refuses to accept my mom wanting to divorce him even though he brought it upon himself for emotionally, verbally and psychologically abusing her and me and my 3 siblings for the last 20+ years), my life’s been going through a sort of downward spiral.
I started working because I wanted to help support the family a little bit and help my mom pay off debts that my parents both owe, but my father doesn’t pay. All I do is work now, and whatever time I have left is only enough for a fraction of my homework and sleep. I barely have enough time to spend with my little brothers, or doing anything other than work, but have barely anything to show for it, besides currently failing grades in 3/4 of my classes, missing assignments, feeling tired all the time and a bit more money in my bank account. The grades were the hardest blow to me, as I’d really been struggling to improve my grades and focus on studies (I have really bad adhd when it comes concentrating on work or anything in general, I just can’t), but was able to get them into the 80’s last semester. Now they’re at 40’s because trying to balance school, work and personal stuff is a lot to handle for me.
Nobody I know really knows how I’ve been feeling about this situation, they think I’m doing just fine (aside from some school stress), which is why I wanted to get some advice about this from you guys on reddit. I can’t let my family know about this because I don’t wanna pass the burden on the them, and I want to handle these feelings on my own without them stressing, but all I feel is sad, empty and drained/tired of it all. I’m not gonna kms because I know that right now, I need to be strong for my family. If I go now, I’m abandoning them to be stuck with him, as well as throwing away all chances to become the man I want to be and give them a better life where they don’t have to worry (mom especially), but with my current grades and situation, it doesn’t feel like I can make that dream a reality.
I hate feeling this way, because I want to do this for them, but all of these emotions, probably strengthened by my adhd (I was/still sort of am really emotional, for some reason strong emotions really hit hard, I remember hearing that adhd makes emotions feel stronger)are giving me a sense of confusion (over why I feel this way) and emptiness. I know I can’t and won’t give up, as I’m the one my family knows they can always count on, and I won’t go back on that or show them my current mental state, but every day, getting out of bed and just telling myself “that’s life” or “it is what it is” gets harder and harder. I don’t like the idea of thinking I’m depressed or something (never had depressing feelings that lasted more than a day), but at this point I feel like I am. I feel guilty for writing and posting this, but I can’t see any other way of getting this off my chest without dumping it onto someone else I know. Thanks and sorry for having to read my rant.